Full Moon OneShot
by Banana Twinkie
Summary: A full moon can cause the strangest of behaviors..


Author's note: I do not own Harry Potter. Or Hermione Granger. Or sadly, Draco Malfoy. That being said...

On with the show.

Edit: I'm a freak perfectionist, so I've made some minor changes.. xD yeah. Thank you to everyone who reviewed!

* * *

It was a full moon. 

Hermione sat in the common room next to a dying fire, trying to concentrate on her Potions homework. It was late, but Head duties had kept her running around the school until past midnight. _Stupid Malfoy_ she thought bitterly. _If he had even bothered to turn up and help me do rounds, _ _I would be in bed by now. _She bowed her head over the scroll and fiddled with her quill.

Stupid, indeed. The combined workload of extra classes and her position of Head Girl this year had put a strain on her resources, and Malfoy knew it. He constantly shirked his Head Boy duties, knowing that Hermione was too drained to upbraid him for his negligence. He never did his rounds, or helped plan school events, or even bothered to show up at Prefect meetings- and she was left to pick up the pieces. Stupid, stupid. Her head began to droop over a musty Arithmancy textbook as she closed her eyes, exausted.

An ember in the grate suddenly flared to life with a loud pop and a shower of sparks. Hermione jumped, nearly upsetting her inkwell. "You're losing your edge, Hermione" She mumbled to herself as she righted the small bottle. "Letting Malfoy-_ Malfoy_, of all people- push you around like you're some wimpy first year. Stupid." And she was talking to herself. Apparently, her edge wasn't the only thing she was losing.

Suddenly, it became hard to breathe. The dying fireplace seemed to glow too brightly. What felt like a comforting puff of warmth before had turned into an oppressive, dry heat, and Hermione felt sweat beginning to bead on her forehead. She stood up and walked to the window, opening the latch and pushing the pane out. A cold gust of wind touched her flushed cheek, bringing the scent of pine and fresh snow into the room. Somewhere an owl hooted sleepily, and Hermione closed her eyes. If only. If only life could be simpler.

Ron and Harry had distanced themselves from her since she became Head Girl. The three no longer shared a common room, and they thought that she would need more time to focus on her duties. They were right, but it wasn't enough to keep a pang of loneliness from stabbing her heart every time they smiled and walked by, assuming they would only waste her time if they stopped to talk.

The Great War - in which Voldemort and most of the Death Eaters had perished, and in which Harry proved himself to be the hero- had taken its toll. For Hermione, that toll was her family. She was happy that the war was over. She really was. But her parents were gone. Not gone as in moved-to-a-faraway-country gone, but six-feet-under gone. Her heart ached as she realized that she had no one now.

Hermione opened her eyes to see a large golden moon fixed into the dark velvet of the night sky. A wolf howled, and a second wolf joined in. Their haunting, beautiful melody twined together in perfect harmony, and Hermione shuddered.

"Full moon," She said almost dreamily to herself. She drowsed by the window for a few more minutes, feeling the feather-light touches of falling snow on her cheeks and bathing in the moonlight when suddenly she realized she was not alone. She tensed, reaching for her wand.

"Care to close the bloody window, Granger?" The icy voice cut through her thoughts. "I could care less if you want to freeze your Mudblood arse off, but I'd rather not catch a cold." Her temper flared, but she ruthlessly tamped it down as she let her wand drop back into her pocket.

"Malfoy." She said it in a toneless voice, turning around. He cocked an eyebrow at her, clearly waiting for her to do something. Slowly, she turned back to the window and swung the heavy frame in with a creak that sounded deafening in the silence of the night. Malfoy's eyebrow hitched a notch higher.

"What Granger- no 'sod off'?" Hermione was silent, apparently content to lean against the wall, her eyes fixed on the plush red carpet. "Where's your legendary temper? Where are the witty comebacks?" He started towards the window. Her eyes shifted to his face, and he stopped dead at the quiet hatred burning in her eyes. Hermione barked out a humorless laugh.

"Don't start with me Malfoy" She spat out. "I'm not in the mood." He began to walk towards her again, a sneer spreading on his face. "It's your bloody fault." And it was.

"_My_ fault?"

"You." Her face was grim. "The way you dump it all on my lap cause you can't be buggered to do it yourself. The way you walk around like the friggin sun shines from your arse. I don't know why Dumbledore lets you stay on as Head Boy."

She tried to step away from the wall, but he was already too close. Slamming his palms against the wall on either side of her head, he brought his face eye level to hers. Her eyes widened, and she felt suddenly awake. He had never so brazenly accosted her like this before. Never dared. Hermione suddenly felt the hard stone hit her head her as he cornered her in.

"I don't care about your problems, Granger," he said, his voice so low it could have been a whisper. "I don't care that I'm not doing whatever I'm supposed to be as the frigging Head Boy. I don't care if you have a bloody mental breakdown." What the in the bloody hell was wrong with him?

"Let me go," Hermione snapped. "It's late. I have to attend a Prefect meeting in the morning, because I'm sure you're damn well not going. Someone has to be there." He didn't move, his blue eyes glittering like hard chips of ice. She tried to bring her knee up to catch him in the crotch, but he moved swiftly to pin her to the wall with his body. She winced as his thigh moved between hers and his hands came up to encircle her slender wrists.

"Malfoy! Let me go!" She began to struggle in earnest against his grip. Uselessly, she pushed at his shoulder. "I have to go!"

"Shut up." Hermione stopped struggling, and peered up suspiciously at him.

"Are you drunk?" She demanded. It would certainly explain his strange behavior tonight. He did not reply, and they stared at each other for a long minute. As the silence stretched out, Hermione noticed his hair was not gelled back like it was a few years ago. It floated around his head like a shimmering halo, reflecting the moonlight from the window. Was he ever going to talk? Or would he stare her down for the remainder of the night?

Finally, he opened his mouth.

"It's _your_ fault. It's your incessant nagging, and that holier-art-thou attitude. It's the way you think you have the answers for everything. It's your stupid hair, and your eyes. You don't give me any peace." His gaze drifted down to her lips. "Why can't you just leave me alone?" He murmured.

"I don't know what you're-"

"Why can't you stay the bloody hell out of my head?"

"Is this your way of punishing me?" Hermione asked in disbelief. "Because you can't stand me?"

He shocked her into silence when he put his hand on her shining hair. The room now was almost completely dark; the fire was out. The only visible light was filtering in from the window behind them. Frozen, she didn't move as he slowly slid his hand down the length of her hair. The feeling was almost comforting, but Hermione was not fooled. This was probably some ploy of his to get her to let her guard down. Suddenly his hand tightened into a fist, clutching at her hair and snapping Hermione's head back. She bit back a gasp of pain.

"You're hurting me, Malfoy."

"Shut up," he breathed. "Just shut up." Nervously, she licked her dry lips, and his eyes darkened. He shoved her up against the wall and covered her mouth with his in a bruising kiss.

Shocked, Hermione did not have time to react before he forced his tongue past her lips to slide against hers. This was no romantic kiss. His mouth was hard, bruising her bottom lip as he pushed against her. Releasing her hair, he moved his hands to her waist and began to slide them down. Confusion twined with anger bolted through her, blazing a trail through her head. She felt her pulse hike in-something- and immediately started to bang on his shoulders with her palms. He broke away with a low noise, his eyes luminous. She could see the moon's reflection in them. His breath was unsteady. Hers wasn't much better.

"What do you want, Malfoy? You want me to play the submissive? Kick you in the balls? Beg?" Her chin jerked up in defiance as she tried to jerk away. He caught her hands again.

"No." He laughed quietly, slowly moving her hands to the wall. "I know you won't beg." His thumbs began to slowly caress her palms, almost as if he didn't know what he was doing. "I hate you."

"Then let me go."

"I hate you" he continued as if he hadn't heard her "because you're everywhere. You could be a continent away and it wouldn't be far enough. _Everywhere. _I tried so hard. So hard to stay the bloody hell away from you. You want to know what I want?" He put his hand on her behind and lifted her up against him. Her eyes widened as she struggled to fully comprehend what was happening. Involuntarily, she felt warmth start to coil low in her belly as her knees buckled. _It must be disgust,_ she thought. _It's **him,** after all._

"Malfoy-"

"What I want, Granger, is your hair spread across my pillow. I want your smell on my sheets, and you in my bed. Jesus, baby Merlin- I want _you_, you stupid little bint. And God knows I've tried to work you out of my system. Do you have any idea what this would do to my reputation? Do you think I _want_ to be mooning over Weasel's bitch??" Hermione flinched. His sharp eyes noted her reaction, and he smirked.

"Ah, but I forgot. There's trouble in paradise for the Gryffindor trio. When was the last time you even talked to Potty and Weasel?" Her face went very still.

"Shut up," she said quietly.

He went on, raking his claws needlessly over still fresh wounds. "And your parents are dead as well. Boo hoo sodding hoo. Poor little lost girl, With no one to turn to. And with the heavy workload this year, it's only a matter of time till you break."

Something in Hermione snapped. The feeling that was curling in the pit of her stomach flared to life, and she jerked forward.

Hermione grabbed him by the collar and with almost inhuman strength, heaved him over to the side. His back hit the wall, and she followed so that their positions were reversed. Finally recognizing the feeling that burned in her belly, she swallowed. So this was it.

"Don't think for a second that I wouldn't Avada you to hell and back if I could, Malfoy." His eyes flared as she lunged forward to claim his lips in a blazing kiss.

The punch of her emotions hit her like a kick in the stomach as she twined her arms around his neck. A voracious craving that had lay dormant, waiting for the proper fuel, blazed to life. One of his hands snaked up to cup her breast, and she gasped into his mouth. What the bloody hell was wrong with her? This was _Malfoy,_ for Merlin's sake! But then he began rocking suggestively against her hips, and she forgot all the reasons why she _shouldn't_ be doing what she was doing. She had been so alone. And now, if only for a moment, she wasn't. Everywhere he touched seemed to stoke the fire in her, and she pressed against him in a silent plea. Malfoy made a strangled groan and tore away to kiss a trail down her neck. Gently pinching a bit of skin between his teeth, he left a mark on her collarbone. She stiffened, and the rest of her sanity flew straight out the window.

"Bed," Hermione panted. "Now." She tugged his robe off, ripping at the fastenings. To hell with thinking. There would be time for regrets in the morning. His hand reached up to between her shoulder blades, expertly undoing her bra with one snap.

They stumbled to door of Hermione's room, entwined together, lips locked. Almost kicking the heavy oak down in their haste, they bumbled over the threshold. She was still trying to get his shirt off when he put his hand on hers, stilling her desperate motions.

"Wait," He breathed. Bending down slightly, he scooped her up in a way that would've made Rhett Butler proud, and began to carry her to bed. Hermione buried her burning face into his shoulder, suddenly apprehensive. He gently set her down on her burgundy sheets, and she stared up at him in bewilderment. His face was immersed in shadow save for the moonlight that hit the planes of his aristocratic features. He looked like a depraved angel with his shirt hanging off one arm and his hair in disarray. Why was he being so gentle now?

Sensing her confusion, he smirked and crawled onto the bed on top of her. Eyes never leaving hers, he slowly unknotted her tie and undid her shirt buttons.

"We've lost our minds," Hermione said faintly, wiping her flushed cheeks. "We're completely bug-shagging crazy."

"Mm." Malfoy murmured his assent, bending his head to kiss the valley between her breasts. He drew off the tie in a slow, sinuous motion. "We can pretend this never happened when we wake up. I wouldn't want it to get out that I've lowered myself to sleep with _you_ anyway."

She knew she was supposed to be offended, but she couldn't summon even a scrap of indignity to save her. "We could-" her breath caught as his mouth began to move south of her torso. She tried again. "We could just blame it on the- the full moon…" Hermione's eyes darted to the window behind them, stealing a quick glance at said moon. Her hand shifted to tangle in his hair and she let out a shaky laugh that quickly turned into a moan. He lifted his head for a moment to stare at her with a burning intensity that made her shiver.

"We could do that," he whispered huskily. "Just so you know, this will never happen again." And then he bent his head to other things.

Behind them, the moon winked innocently against the night sky.


End file.
